


Germs

by Camerahead12



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Anxiety, Author Is Sleep Deprived, COVID-19, Croanavirus, Doctor Sam Winchester, Don't cough on me, Germaphobe Dean Winchester, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Quarantine, There Is Only One Bed, Virus, social distancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23404567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camerahead12/pseuds/Camerahead12
Summary: Being a germaphobe is probably the worst type of person to be in a virus pandemic hits the world, right? But it has some perks! Like knowing how to function and clean things more thoroughly than any sane person should know how. Except, when the unexpected happens, what do you do?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 16
Kudos: 52





	Germs

**Author's Note:**

> Hello loves!
> 
> I hope everyone is safe and staying at home (if you can). Unfortunately, I am one of the ones that is unable to stay at home. It's a very uncertain time, and I've come to realize that watching the news only heightens my anxiety about the whole mess. I currently am on day two of only reading highlights and only watching clips of the reports. It's actually helped enough that I can calm my mind enough to write. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

Before the world went to shit in a handbag Dean could admit he is a bit of a germaphobe. So he liked his personal space and no one breathing on him, so what? If someone accidentally touched his hand while he passed them an item they needed at work, no one had to know that he’d immediately go to the nearest sink to scrub his hands almost raw. It was his business and you know what they say, you can never be too careful.

But then, in a matter of a few days, the world began to spiral. Headlines were everywhere saying “wash your hands and sanitize often”, “ten more tested positive”, and “another five deaths today make 1,348”. It was a lot for anyone to take in, let alone someone who usually cringes envisioning germs crawling over his own body on a good day.

Dean was actually impressed with how well he was dealing with it all. When the President ordered everyone to stay at home unless they needed to go out for essentials, Dean was over the moon. Two weeks to just be home sounded like heaven on earth! His excitement was quickly crushed when his boss informed them they were required to stay open because they were considered “essential”.

“This is bullshit!” Dean snaps, flinching as his car door slams a bit harder than he means it to.

His brother sighs loud enough to be heard over the background noise of people talking on the other end of the phone. “The whole situation is crap, Dean, just be lucky you still have a job and are getting paid.”

Dean groans laying his head back against the seat. “Yeah, I know. Just sucks with all these people around, touching everything, and who the hell knows the last time they actually changed their gloves. Just weirds me out, man.”

Sam huffs out a breath. “I get it. Trust me. I have to be here testing people all day long, wondering if today is the day we run out of gloves. Do you remember Marv?”

“That old doctor you use to complain about his back when you did residency in the ER overnight?” Dean asks sitting up and turning the key.

“They called him out of retirement to work the tents. I get to – shit!”

Dean’s hand freezes, outstretched to grab the gearshift to put his Baby in drive. The worst possible thoughts begin to race through his head as his brother falls silent. “What? Sam, what happened? Are you okay? Talk to me, what is going on?” 

“Crap, sorry. I’m fine,” Sam says. “I was so exhausted when I woke up and left for work that I forgot to actually pack my lunch. My cooler is empty.”

Dean’s breath comes out in whoosh as his forehead rests against his steering wheel. “You ass. I was afraid they locked the place down or something.”

“We’ve talked about this, Dean,” he says and Dean can almost feel Sam’s eyes rolling over the phone. “We don’t get ‘shut down’. It doesn’t work like that. As long as we are taking protective measures and using the proper gear we –”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You’re safe. Just…” Dean straightens back up in his head, swallowing dryly trying to calm his anxiety. He stares out at the muddy, empty field in front of him letting the comforting rumble of his car calm him. “Just worry, ya know?”

Sam chuckles over the phone. “The worst thing you have to worry about now is me starving to death.”

Tucking the phone in between his shoulder and ear, Dean puts his car in gear and reverses out of his parking spot. “Don’t they have a cafeteria there?”

“Shut down to the public. Patients only. It’s no big deal. I’m pretty sure Jess packed an apple or something in her bag, I’ll just take something out of there and –”

“You are not eating your pregnant wife’s lunch!” Dean scolds, turning onto the highway to head back into town. “She’ll probably kick you out and then I’d have to be stuck with your infected ass.”

“It doesn’t work like that! I’m not –”

“Blah blah blah, I get it,” Dean grips the steering wheel tighter. “So, uh, what’ya hungry for?”

The background noise of people talking is the only reason that Dean knows Sam hasn’t hung up on him. “I’m not really all that hungry, actually.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You’ve been working basically nonstop doubles for the past two weeks,” Dean says pushing his foot down a bit harder on the accelerator. “Just tell me what you want and I’ll drive through and get it.”

“Did you hit your head and forget where work?”

“Listen, I’m three minutes away from town and if you don’t tell me what you want I’m driving through McDonald’s and getting you a Big Mac,” Dean says flipping on his blinker to get over into the right lane.

“You can’t just walk into a hospital in the middle of a fucking pandemic to bring me lunch, Dean!”

He rolls his eyes and grips the steering wheel tighter with both hands. “Which is why you’re going to come out really quick when I get there and grab the bag. If I can get close enough I don’t even have to get out of the car. Win win for everyone.”

“There is no way you can just pull up to the side of the building. It’s blocked off by security directing them to the drive-thru tent so they can get tested. That’s not to mention the lines of people standing outside waiting to get screened before they get in here for whatever they need to get seen for!”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he sat at the red light. Sam was right. It was pretty much just asking to be infected with the virus. The last time he saw his brother was a week ago right before the “shelter and place” order went into effect. He looked like shit then; dark bags under his eyes, the bridge of his nose red from his face mask. Dean can only imagine what he looks like now.

A car honks behind him and Dean snaps his eyes open, hitting the gas a little too hard. “Listen, I can’t imagine what kind of shit you’ve been doing every day. You’re saving lives and keeping people safe. But you can’t do that when you’re on the verge of passing out because you aren’t taking care of yourself. You and everyone else working there are heroes, but even a hero’s gotta eat. Just let me do this one thing as my part in thanking you.”

Dean flicks on his turn signal to the deli he knows Sam likes, luckily only two cars are ahead of him ordering. Over the phone he hears his brother sigh. “Fine. Across the street from the hospital there is a parking lot. You’ll see my car. Just…text me when you get there. No Big Mac!”

Fifteen minutes later Dean follows a rough looking Lincoln Continental into the half empty parking lot across from the hospital. The Lincoln parks in the first available spot, where Dean slowly drives past getting as close as he can to the road separating him from the hospital. Picking up his phone next to the brown bag with Sam’s food he sends off a quick text to his brother letting him know he’s hear with the food.

Dean hears a car door close and cranes his neck around to see a tall guy wearing athletic pants and tight gray t-shirt with dark, unruly hair walking away from the Lincoln he followed in. Any other time Dean might be tempted to step outside his car and strike up a conversation with someone with a body like this guys, but Lord only knows where this guy has come from and what types of germs are multiplying all over his skin. Dean logically knows the quickest way to the massive line of people waiting to get in is walking right past his car, but he’s half hoping for a miracle the guy will decide to “social distance” from his car.

_It’s fine. If he had the symptoms he would be in his car waiting in **that** line to get tested, not trying to walk into the hospital! _Dean runs his hand over his face in frustration, then immediately yanks it away glaring at his palm groaning. The bag was probably riddled with germs and the damn virus!

“That’s not true,” Dean mumbles to himself reaching into his glove box to get grab his packet of disinfectant wipes. “Everyone is being more careful, and Sam said the chances of catching the virus through fast food bags is slim to none.” He glares at the bag, but just to be on the safe side starts to wipe it down anyway.

As Dean lifts the bag trying to figure out how to go about cleaning the top while he’s holding onto it when he hears a dry, raspy cough next to his door. The little hairs on the back of his neck and arms rise as he hears a gasp and the person cough harder.

It’s almost as if Dean can see all the germs and bits of virus floating in the air disguising themselves as dust motes. He holds his breath, as if that save him from the virus, just in time to see the guy with the dark hair grab his sides and collapse onto the ground a few feet from his car.

Frozen, with one hand holding onto the brown paper takeout bag and the other holding onto a wipe, he stares at the vacant spot the guy was standing. Dean’s eyes flick around the area looking around the area half expecting to see doctors in white coats running to save the guy, but no one seems to have noticed. Almost as if someone else is moving his body Dean lays the wipe and the bag on his passenger seat and opens his door.

The guy lays motionless on the ground as if he might be sleeping. He walks the few steps separating them and gives him a gentle nudge with his boot. The guy doesn’t move. Still feeling like someone else is controlling his body, Dean kneels down and rolls the guy over onto his back, staring at his chest trying to see if there’s any movement. For a long moment it doesn’t look like the guy is breathing. Biting his lower lip nervously, Dean puts two fingers on the dark haired guys neck searching for a pulse.

Just as his fingers touch the against the rough stubble on the man’s neck, he gasps and lets out a rough cough. Directly onto Dean’s face.

His ears start ringing as two of the brightest blue eyes Dean has ever seen blink open slowly, then go wide in surprise. Dean feels the man’s heartbeat speed up underneath his fingertips, but his body doesn’t seem to be able to move.

Dean watches as the man’s lips are moving, he knows there are words being said but the ringing in his ears is blocking every other sound out. His hand falls from the blue eyed mans neck as he pushes himself up, reaching out for Dean but pauses and flinches halfway before his lips are moving again and he retracts his hand.

“Dean! DEAN!”

His brothers voice breaks through the rining in his ears and he looks up to see Sam running across the street to him. He has his PPE on, followed by two other people dressed in the same getup.

“I’m sorry! I just came for my appointment and started to feel lightheaded, I couldn’t catch my breath, I…” the dark haired man looks back and forth from Sam to Dean. “Oh God, I don’t – no, no! I’ve been feeling fine! Just a little tickle! It’s just allergies!”

“Sir, you need to come with us,” one of the doctors says. “How long have you been short of breath?”

“Dean,” Sam says, his gloved hand gripping tightly to Dean’s forearm. It takes Dean a minute to realize that he is still kneeling on the ground, the arm that was coughed on still outstretched in front of him. “I need to know if you two had contact.”

Thinking about being coughed on finally hits his brain and his arm begins to tingle. As if all the germs and bacteria are running and scampering all over his skin, spreading and multiplying, sinking into his pores.

“I haven’t had any! I mean, I haven’t really left my house until today, so I guess I haven’t really been walking as much as I should. It’s just the cough. Just a tickle, really. It’s gotten worse these past two days, but no fever and…” Dean looks up just in time to see two bright blue eyes look down at him. “I coughed on him.”

“Dean,” it comes out stern, like a warning. Dean numbly looks back over to his brother as the tingling over his arms spreads up to his shoulders and neck. “Listen, it’s going to be fine. It’s all fine, okay? You’re just going to come with me and we’re going to swab you and –”

“I’m so sorry!” The man yells. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

“Sir, I need your name,”

“Castiel. Castiel Novak,” he says frantically. “Am I in trouble? It was an accident! I didn’t –” Another raspy cough cuts him off.

“Fuck,” he hears his brother whisper through his mask. “Listen Dean. I know you don’t want to hear this, but we’re going to put you and this Castiel in a room together until we can figure this out, okay?”

Dean just stares at him, unable to open his mouth because he knows if he opens his mouth then the germs that are steadily spreading up onto his face will swarm in and then that’ll be it.

“You gotta talk to me, man. I’m kinda freaking out. I need you to say something so I know you’re not in shock,” Sam says, his hazel eyes pleading at him through the plastic face protector.

He swallows dryly, taking a deep breath through his nose. As his lips part he feels the tingling of germs spreading spill in, spreading out and diving down his throat. It tickles. Dean clears his throat, coughing a little at the tickle. “Your food is in the car. I wiped the bag down.”

Dean watches as the worried lines creasing Sam’s eyes smooth out and he rolls his eyes. “Thanks, but I think lunch will have to wait. Let’s get you inside, alright?”

Dean lets Sam help him up and doesn’t flinch when Sam’s hand doesn’t let go of his forearm as they follow behind the two doctors and Castiel. The blue eyed man keeps looking back him, giving him a worried, apologetic look as if maybe he wants to say something.

“The room is clean, set up for this type of situation,” Sam says as the doors automatically open for them. “Well, kind of I guess. It’s set up for one person, so there’s one bed and a chair.”

Dean’s feet stop walking as if glued to the floor. One bed?! With a guy who has the virus? Wait, they’re going to be in the same room! For how long!? He’s going to be stuck in a room that’s going to be crawling with germs that could potentially kill him!

“Dean…” Sam says, tightening his grip on his arm. “I know what you’re thinking and I can’t just let you bolt. It’s for your own good. I’m really sorry.”

The last thing Dean registers before his world starts spinning and goes black, is a deep, almost soothing voice, saying his name.

*~*~*~*

With a gasp, Dean sits up, squinting as the bright light threatens to melt his eye balls. He looks around the room blinking frantically, trying to get his bearings, but his eyes are refusing to focus.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” a deep familiar voice says. “Your brother said you might be a bit panicky when you wake up, but it’s alright. He said he’d stop back by in a few hours to check on you.”

Dean blinks at the dark blob that is blocking out some of the brightness from the room. Slowly, the blob gains substance and slowly forms the shape of a man holding up his hands like Dean is robbing him. A man with wild, untamed hair and bright blue eyes full of worry staring at him.

“He…He said you don’t like to be touched, so I’m not going to touch you, but uh, I’m Castiel. People call me Cas for short,” He says waving his fingers at him. He clears his throat, a red flush spreading over his cheeks as he drops his hands and ducks his head. “I thought, um, since we’re stuck here together you might as well know my name.”

Dean just blinks at Castiel, watching him walk back over to the chair at the other end of the room and sit down. Even when Castiel looks back up at him, Dean just stares back. The tingling over his body is gone and deep down inside Dean knows that he’s infected. Instead of feeling anxiety over it, he doesn’t feel anything at all. He’s probably still in shock over the whole thing, but Dean decides he’ll take it. If he’s going to be stuck here with this guy, he might as well get to know him.

“Heya Cas,” he says, flinching at how dry and scratchy the words are coming out. “I’m Dean.”

A soft smile spreads over Castiel’s lips as he nods his head slightly. “Hello Dean. Nice to meet you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos give me a high! Drop some words and let me know what you think. I love talking to you beautiful humans. <3  
> ****  
> During this whole mess, I just want to let you all know you all are amazing, wonderful humans. If you ever feel isolated or alone, drop me a message and we can talk. I am on twitter @Camerahead12 or you can get to me on facebook. We are in this together, so lets be there for each other!


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